The Pickle
There is “Carly the Professional” and “Carly the laid back, fleece wearing, semi-crunchy / semi-yuppy who saves pickles in her timbuk2 bag”. Both personas clash on occasion, causing a sort of different pickle for the “Carly of the Moment” to deal with. example 1. When we train leasing consultants, we provide them with bottled water. Bottled water during meetings is Corporate World Standard M.O. The green side of me weeps a little every time a bottle is opened. All requests for an alternative hydration approach have been denied. example 2. Today I had to run through the airport OJ Simpson style in order to catch my flight. It’s not typical to see a blonde, 5’10, suit sprinting with a purse and laptop in tow. It is a good thing that I have been running lately, and that I had my ecco heels on. Judging by the looks that the sedentary suits gave me - they don’t keep the hope alive and make a run for it. example 3. I save food for later, in an attempt to not be wasteful and to regulate my blood sugar levels. Just now, as I am flying to Garden Grove to give a presentation, I’ve discovered a pickle wrapped in a napkin, in my bag. It should be noted that I am truly, in no way, a lackadaisical slob. I had wrapped the aforementioned pickle in a napkin on Sunday, with the intention to eat it after my workout. I had even mentioned on Monday to Mary, “I can’t seem to find my pickle…” Clearly there is too much going on… As you can imagine, the “real pickle” is much larger than the one in my purse - and more involved to clean up.
